Turian of the highest calibre
by mrthingyx
Summary: Not many things scare Shepard any more: seeing humans transformed into plant-zombies, conversing with a machine older than the Earth itself, and hearing Hamlet performed by an Elcor troupe all tend to take the fear out of a normal existence. But when Garrus comes up with a cunning plan, Shepard starts to worry...


"Garrus - you got a minute?"

Shepard was standing in the doorway, datapad in hand. A muted grunt from under the power modulator for the Thanix cannon was his response.

"Sure thing, Shepard - I'll come out." The tall turian twisted out from under the huge gun and sauntered over the the Normandy's commander. "What's on your mind?"

"I was going to ask you just that question, Garrus," Shepard responded cautiously, handing over the datapad. "Are you sure this is a good idea? The last time I saw somebody try this, the results weren't pretty."

Garrus' eyes flicked over the screen, and his mandibles twitched. "Yeah, about that..." He sighed, "I just thought he might appreciate the sentiment, like continuing on the work he started."

Shepard's left eyebrow quirked upwards. "I didn't really have you pegged as the sentimental type, Garrus." It was a statement, not a question.

Garrus glanced around, as if looking for exit. "Sure - it's a turian cultural trait. Very important in managing family expectations."

Shepard's errant eyebrow dropped. "Oh, really?"

Garrus exhaled again, this time his shoulders slumped ever so slightly in a human expression. He looked back at Shepard, mandibles flexed in the turian equivalent of a smile. "Not buying today?"

"Only this, it would seem," Shepard said, taking back the datapad. "I'm not even going to ask how much this is going to cost."

Garrus' mandibles twitched again, looking at the floor. "Look, Shepard - if it's a question of money-"

"What?" The commander interrupted, "You think that's what this is about?" That spot on the floor was really interesting. "I mean, don't get me wrong - this is going to mean a lot of favours, and probably even more because this sort of thing is... Well, unusual, even for a Spectre on this kind of mission." Really interesting. Shepard continued. "I'm just watching out for you, because this," He gestured to the datapad, "is pretty crazy, even for you."

Garrus looked up, turian eyes even more inscrutable than normal. "I'm good, Shepard - I've been thinking about this for a while now. I need it."

"Really." Shepard deadpanned. "The biggest I've ever seen – or even heard of – that wasn't mounted on the side of a tank or something was a 20-mil or something. And that was an antique from the 21st century."

"20 millimetres?"

"Yeah – converts to something like 250..." Shepard paused, "250zev muzzle energy."

"You are correct, Shepard," both men jumped at EDI's bored-sounding intrusion.

Garrus was quick to recover. "What? Why did you stop there? Why not 300zev?" He asked, sarcasm starting to creep into his primary tones.

"The legacy point-five-oh calibre cartridge was deemed the most effective given the average range, target type and load requirements submitted by pre-Mass Effect society on Earth. A muzzle energy of approximately 18,345Joules or 12.8zetta-electronvolts was deemed sufficient to remove a target from theatre, regardless of penetration point."

Garrus was curious now. "You mean kill or maim..."

"That is correct." EDI paused, as if physically turning to address the commander. "To provide you with context, Shepard, Garrus' 'Widow' rifle has a particulate muzzle energy of 101zev. The specified modification, re-bored and sleeved barrel and remodelling of the thermal sinks would increase this to 346.2zev" With her contribution made, EDI went quiet.

Shepard puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his eyes. "350zev, Garrus? Seriously? A generator that can pile that kind of energy into a particle round is bordering light artillery." He blinked up at the ceiling. "Hell, have you even thought about the heat discharge? How are you going to carry the heatsinks? I'm not having Joker or Cortez on standby to airdrop packs of them every time you miss."

Garrus' mandibles clamped tight, but he didn't rise to the bait. "It's ok, Shepard – I came across some schematics from Turian High Command, as well as some interesting research that Liara dug up. I won't _bore you with the _tech," he drawled, his verbal riposte getting a wry smile from his commander, "but it will mean the cartridges aren't much bigger than the standard Widow." His mandibles flared. "You won't need to be my baggage handler just yet."

Another exhale. "Ok – fine. But what about recoil? Do you remember how much fun I had when you tried out Legion's original?"

Garrus' smile faded. "Yeah, but do you remember what happened to the wall behind that... what were there? Those big husks with the guns?"

Shepard arched an eyebrow, apparently unconvinced, and shook his head whistfully. "You know, there are probably several licensing regulations that will get broken here, even with my Spectre status..."

A thick silence grew between them; Garrus' eyes fixed on the human in front of him who was now rubbing the heels of his hands around his eye sockets. After what seemed like an eternity, Garrus broke first. "When was the last time you slept, Shepard?"

"Two days ago."

"Shouldn't you be getting some – what is that human phrase? – 'shut eye?'"

Shepard sighed. "I'll sleep when I'm dead. And unfortunately for me, that... Reaper spawn thing at the Collector base went down far to easily."

Garrus chuckled. "You know, I think this is the only ship in the galaxy where that joke actually works."

Shepard smiled, definitely looking tired. "Anyway, if you're good," he said, waving the datapad for emphasis, "let's do this. I want to see if your ego is writing cheques your body can't cash."

Garrus was bored. This was his first field test with his new baby. He'd spent the past few days calibrating the it with the new, modified generator until he was confident it could help Joker shave. At 3 kilometres. Range testing on the Normandy was not something anybody was comfortable with, least of all Alliance regulations, which is why he'd been posted as an additional rear-guard to the ground team. He was looking forward to seeing what it could do.

He smiled when he thought of Tali's verbal expression when she first saw the new contraption, and then again when she saw the readouts. After the initial loss for words, she had blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Garrus? You will kill yourself." Shepard had laughed; Vega had said something about size not being everything; Kaidan had sighed. _This is going to be good_, he thought to himself.

As the seconds ticked by, Garrus noticed a slight hum coming from the rifle he was holding. It hadn't done that before, or was it just the new accelerator had a different pitch that he could actually notice? Either way, he hadn't noticed it in the simulations once the thing had arrived and been fitted, but then, it had never been _this_ quiet on the ship.

His reverie was broken by the sharp report of automatic gunfire. "Garrus – you there?" Shepard was running.

Garrus scanned through his scope, searching. Nothing yet. "What took you so long?"

"Tali was trying something new." Only Shepard could sound bored in the middle of a running gunfight.

"It was meant to be more efficient!" he heard the quarian complain, also running. "If Vega hadn't–"

"That's more than I needed to know." Garrus interrupted smoothly, his mandibles flaring.

"Yeah – get a room!" Vega snapped, followed by the distinctive triple crack of his rifle.

Garrus' mandibles flared again, smiling at the banter. He almost regretted the idea of beating the Reapers and having to go back to real life – whatever that was – and not being part of this team. Just at that instant, the ground team burst around a distant headland.

"Got you, Shepard – 800 metres. I'll follow you in."

"Copy that. See you in... oh, sh–" Shepard was cut off by the squealing feedback as Garrus heard the rumble of high explosives.

Garrus frowned, and tried to hide the concern in his voice. "What are you guys doing?"

"ATLAS!" Vega yelled over the comm.

"Ok, people – doubletime!"

Tali and James sprinted on ahead, zig-zagging through the sparse cover making over the wide riverbed they were using for their egress. Shepard scanned their immediate surrounds, keenly aware of the enormous mech behind him. "Cortez – I'm going to need a hot extraction! Half a click north of my position! Garrus – get moving!"

Cortez' calm response was immediate. "Roger that, Commander – tracking your signal."

Shepard felt a round crack against his barrier, as he noticed the riverbed narrowed slightly a short distance ahead – 500m was going to be too much...

"Belay that, Cortez! We won't make it!" He barked. "Tali – left! James –your right! Duck and cover!" His team complied without a word, following his directions.

"Garrus – can you take out the pilot?"

"That hurts, Shepard. Even Vega could hit that thing from here."

"_Tu madre, puta_!"

"Can it, you two! Vega – troopers!" Shepard's mind raced through the variables as he rushed forward, the big marine rising up in the corner of his eye. This was going to be close. He ducked behind a boulder, acutely aware of how ineffective it would be when the Atlas began targeting. "Tali – watch for the mech. I want the shields stripped!"

Vega's rifle opened up as Shepard made himself as small as possible, accelerated particles sparking off his boulder, and raining down around him. He caught an orange glow off to the left as Tali primed her omni-tool, and felt the tingle in his forearm as he focussed, the sensation building as the jack at the bottom of his neck went hot. "Ready people!" He was dimly aware of the acknowledgements over the comm as he stepped out from behind the boulder. A corona of dark energy flared around him as he loosed a massive shockwave at the on-coming troopers.

Armoured bodies were sent tumbling through the air like rag dolls, landing sprawled across the riverbed. The Atlas kept coming.

Shepard lurched back behind the boulder as a cannon shot whistled passed him. "Garrus! You're up!"

"Copy that, Shepard," Garrus' smooth harmonics came back. "Target acquired."

"Tali – light it up!"

Garrus watched through the scope as the massive electrical discharged enveloped the towering mech. He exhaled, adjusting his aim slightly to account for the mech's trim correction after Tali's overload.

He eased the trigger past its first stage, his visor still showing a faint blue glow around the target. It's shields were still partially up. He felt time slow down as the mech sank down between steps, and the rest of the galaxy faded away as its huge body began to rise–

Watching over the top of his boulder, Shepard saw the Atlas jerk backwards violently as the orange canopy seemed to implode through the back of its chassis, swiftly followed by a deep boom-crack that made his bones shake. For what felt like an eternity he stood riveted, until the mech began to hum and spark as its eezo core containment field collapsed, finally exploding in a massive fireball.

Vega whooped. "DAMN, Scars! What the hell was that?!"

"Careful, Lieutenant – we're not out of it yet." As Shepard moved out from behind his boulder, he noticed Tali's helmet poking above her cover. "Tali – you ok?"

"Kheela!" She breathed over the comm. "What did he do?"

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then," Shepard deadpanned. "Nice work, Garrus." He turned to survey the damage, Definitely no survivors. And no response from Garrus – he should have been crowing by now. "Garrus – you copy?"

Something turian that wasn't picked up by the translator rumbled over the comms. Shepard smiled – 350zev had to hurt.

"Cortez – ready for pick-up: rendezvous at Garrus' location, 800 metres north."


End file.
